"had dwelt in Lochlin, in the midst of a leafless << grove. Five stones lifted near their heads. "Loud roared his rushing stream. He often "raised his voice to the winds, when meteors "marked their nightly wings, when the dark"robed moon was rolled behind her hill. Nor "unheard of ghosts was he! They came with the "sound of eagle wings. They turned battle, in "fields, before the kings of men. "But, Trenmor, they turned not from battle. "He drew forward the troubled war; in its dark "skirt was Trathal, like a rising light. It was "dark, and Loda's son poured forth his signs on night. The feeble were not before thee, son of "other lands!* Then rose the strife of kings about "the hill of night; but it was soft as two summer gales, shaking their light wings on a lake. "Trenmor yielded to his son, for the fame of "the king had been heard. Trathal came forth "before his father, and the foes failed in echoing "Caracha. The years that are past, my son, are "marked with mighty deeds."+ In clouds rose the eastern light. The foe came forth in arms. The strife is mixed on Rath-col, like the roar of streams. Behold the contending * Trenmor and Trathal. Ossian introduces this episode as an example to his son from ancient times. + Those who deliver down this poem in tradition lament that there is a great part of it lost. In particular they regret the loss of an episode, which was here introduced with the sequel of the story of Carmal and his Druids. Their attachment to it was founded on the descriptions of magical enchantments which it contained. of kings! They meet beside the oak. In gleams of steel the dark forms are lost; such is the meeting of meteors in a vale by night: red light is scattered round, and men foresee the storm!— Duth-carmor is low in blood! The son of Ossian overcame! Not harmless in battle was he, Malvina, hand of harps! Nor, in the field, were the steps of Cathlin. The stranger stood by a secret stream, where the foam of Rath-col skirted the mossy stones.— Above bends the branchy birch, and strews its leaves on wind. The inverted spear of Cathlin touched at times the stream. Oscar brought Duth-carmor's mail: his helmet with its eagle wing. He placed them before the stranger, and his words were heard. "The foes of thy father "have failed. They are laid in the field of ghosts. Renown returns to Morven like a rising wind. Why art thou dark, chief of Clu"tha? Is there cause for grief?" "Son of Ossian of harps, my soul is darkly "sad. I behold the arms of Cathmol, which he "raised in war. Take the mail of Cathlin, place "it high in Selma's hall, that thou mayest remem"ber the hapless in thy distant land." From white breasts descended the mail. It was the race of kings: the soft-handed daughter of Cathmol, at the streams of Clutha! Duth-carmor saw her bright in the hall; he had come by night to Clutha. Cathmol met him in battle, but the he ro fell. Three days dwelt the foe with the maid. On the fourth she fled in arms. She remembered the race of kings, and felt her bursting soul? Why, maid of Toscar of Lutha, should I tell how Cathlin failed? Her tomb is at rushy Lumon, in a distant land. Near it were the steps of Sul-malla, in the days of grief. She raised the song for the daughter of strangers, and touched the mournful harp. Come from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely beam! |